The Thames flows proudly to the sea, Where royal cities stately stand; But sweeter flows the Nith to me, Where Comyns ance had high command. When shall I see that honour'd land, That winding stream I love so dear! Must wayward Fortune's adverse hand For ever, ever keep me here! How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales, Where bounding hawthorns gaily bloom; And sweetly spread thy sloping dales, Where lambkins wanton through the broom. Tho' wandering now must be my doom, Far from thy bonnie banks and braes, May there my latest hours consume, Amang the friends of early days! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BOUND NO'TH BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES FRIDAY NIGHT by ISIDORE G. ASCHER A SONNET. OF LOVE by PHILIP AYRES TO CYNTHIA GONE INTO THE COUNTRY by PHILIP AYRES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM AT CLIFTON by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES JOHN THE BAPTIST by JOHN STUART BLACKIE DEATH IN A BALL-ROOM by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |